


champagne room

by pouty



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, High School AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty/pseuds/pouty
Summary: maybe, just maybe, the invisible strings pulling life together meant for them to meet like this.





	1. first day of my life

It all starts in sophomore year.

With freshmen year behind them the hierarchy system of their school was quickly established.

The popular kids? Check. Do they probably do a sport? Most likely.

The neutral kids? Check. They probably do a sport, probably do some of the clubs deemed “nerdy”. Probably don’t. May have a few popular friends in passing.

The outcasts? Check. These could very well be the nerds as well as the ones that want to be “different”. No one knows them by name, so that’s how they got their title.

Nayeon scoffs at the way everyone is so eaged to be thrown into boxes. She doesn’t even think she fits in any, if she’s being honest. Her take on school was to go to classes, stay for a club or two, then go home. It was quiet and easy and simple and just what she liked. No drama or people to put in line, because she very well would if the option arises. But she stays in her place, one that’s far from most.

“It’s sophomore year!” one of the few people she cared to pay attention to exclaims. Her name is Chaeyoung, who Nayeon personally classifies in the upper neutral section of the social pyramid. Chaeyoung would scoff and laugh it off with a smile if she told her, but it was true. Everyone loved her. She just didn’t love 90% of them back, at least not enough to befriend them any farther than an at-school-only level. And all for good reason. There was always someone spilling something that never failed to shock Nayeon’s innocent ears. She really couldn’t blame her.

“Another year of my life going to waste!” Nayeon exclaims back, sounding just as enthusiastic as Chaeyoung.

“Don’t be like that,” she frowns, cool autumn air breezing past her short hair. Sitting outside before the bell rings may have not been the best idea, but whatever.

“I’m just saying. For someone like me, nothing exciting will happen. And I’m fine with that.”

“You never know,” Chaeyoung nudges her, but Nayeon meant what she said. Sort of.

 

________

 

  
Thankfully, getting back into the swing of things wasn’t too hard. A week of introductions to classes was as lackluster as she had imagined. Boring classes with boring kids (minus this one group... all with popular kids with too much to say), boring lunch periods alone secluded in the boring band room. Then to top it all off, a boring walk home.

Boring, boring, boring.

On the bright side, photography club was still up and running. There was a scare at the end of last year that it wouldn’t come back, but with hope in her eyes, she looked at the bulletin board after lunch and found the signup sheet titled _Photography Club_. At least _that_ was something to brighten her dull days.

And then the redundant cycle of school life truly began.

 

 

________

 

 

  
For about a month things are as predictable as they can be.

Nayeon goes to class, the popular kids annoy her, she eats alone in the band room and contemplates life and its meaning, then goes to photography club and walks home. Nothing more and nothing less. Other than the occasional attempt to hang out from Chaeyoung, that is. Which almost always ends up in one of them forgetting last minute and the other one not caring enough to remember at all. It was a bit cold hearted, but it was how they worked. They understood each other, and that’s what mattered.

 

But the day that intricate cycle breaks… well…

 

It was lunch period. She sat near the pianos with her little lunch bag, the brown paper bag ones her mom almost always left a cheesy note in, and ate in silence. Sometimes she would bring her earbuds to liven things up a little, but she had forgotten them that day, so she settled on the smooth jazz and tremendous acoustics of her breathing.

 

In the middle of angrily thinking about the subject of proofs her geometry teacher introduced today, the fact that she may have failed the pop quiz in biology, and was reliving how much she could hate school and its atmosphere, someone barges into the band room.

It really was not her day.

It’s two girls, one Nayeon slightly recognizes from her classes and the other one a complete stranger. They’re holding hands, and it looks like their lipstick is smudged. Nayeon puts two and two together.

“Uh, are you…?” the one she recognizes asks, and Nayeon could tell that whiny high pitched voice apart anywhere. It’s Minatozaki Sana. She was notorious for being the goofball in class. To the school, that is. To her, she was the one Nayeon usually zones out to when she talks (because she talks a _lot_ ).

“Yeah. I’m using the room. Beat it,” she says casually. She wasn’t going to let her beloved band room become a makeout room. For the sake of the band students and for her empty stomach.

“Alright, no need to be rude about it,” Sana grumbles, tugging the other girl’s hand. Her hair is short and brown. Familiar. Nayeon thinks she’s from the soccer team, but she doesn’t really care. Sports weren’t her favorite.

“Sana, I think we were the rude ones here…” the other girl says, looking at Nayeon with remorse.

“You’re on her side, Momo? We didn’t do anything!” Sana whines.

_Was she always this whiny?_

“Actually, you did,” Nayeon says, chewing her sandwich nonchalantly.

“Did _what_ exactly?” she challenges. The more clueless looking one… Momo, was it?... looks uncomfortable beside her.

“You came and ruined my lunch period,” she squints. Sana stares back, not nearly as intimidating.

“How was I supposed to know you were in here?” she sounds completely oblivious, and Nayeon almost feels bad for being so harsh, but she doesn’t let up.

“Knock?” she harps back.

Sana purses her lips, their stare down seemingly endless.

“You don’t own the band room, you know,” Sana crosses her arms.

”And you don’t own the school,” Nayeon counters.

“You guys are making this a big deal for no reason. Sana, why don’t we just go?” her tag along says. But Nayeon won’t let them get the last word.

“I know you’re part of the popular crowd and probably never heard the word ‘no’ in your life, but maybe this can be a wake up call,” Nayeon looks at the clock and gets up. “See you in class, Sana,” she smiles sweetly, three minute warning bell sounding off in her wake.

As she walks away, she finds herself angry over the fact that she doesn’t feel as triumphant as she should, just feels like she was being an ass, but she tries to shake it off. Her next class was across the hall from her locker, so she’d be early. Which was unlike her to say the least. The debates she had with herself in the band room could get pretty intense.

 

After getting a notebook from her locker, Nayeon is surprised to find Sana already there. She’s not in her usual seat, though. She’s sat in the seat next to Nayeon’s. It would make her look like the bigger person if she just sat somewhere else, but today her pride was high and willingness to give things up low. She takes her seat with an anxious pride, not looking in Sana’s direction.

“Hey,” she says. Nayeon ignores her, reaching over to take out her books.

“Hey,” she says again.

Silence. They were both early to class. While she was late sometimes, Nayeon was sure this was Sana’s first time doing so at all. Not that she was paying attention to her or anything…

“The teacher isn’t even here. No one’s here. You can talk,” she pleads.

“Why should I?” She answers casually. Sana mulls over the rhetorical question for some reason, shifting in her seat.

“Well, we had a bad first impression of each other and I want to fix that. I promise I’m nice,” she smiles. It’s a cute smile, one that’s impossible to resist. Nayeon feels the corner of her lips twitch.

“Why does it matter? We don’t have to cross paths again. I’m just here to get through the bullshit quietly and graduate. I’ll gladly leave you alone,” she hardens, not letting that smile get to her.

“That sounds like you’re barely scraping by. Just _surviving_  all alone is no fun, is it? Don’t you want to have fun?” her voice is soft and sincere, and it makes the comment so unnecessarily emotional for Nayeon. Sana stares at her longingly in the silence, waiting for an answer.

Nayeon expects her to drop the conversation and leave her in her pondering, especially when her “crew” comes into class, but she stays, still focused on her.

“I have fun,” she says under her breath.

“Doesn’t seem like it…”

Nayeon feels the heart to heart moment rot like spoiled milk. She side eyes her, making Sana go red.

“I mean-... ah, I don’t know what I mean. You just… I assumed someone who was eating alone in the band room wouldn’t be having a particularly fun life,” she says as carefully as she can.

“Well maybe you should get to know a person before making assumptions about them,” it came out a lot more intense in her head, but if anything it delivered like a proposition.

“Is that a challenge?” Sana smirks.

“I-“

“It’s settled, then. I’ll dedicate my entire school year to learning about… Im Nayeon,” she says proudly, fist to her chest. “And I’m using my ‘no one says no to me because I’m popular’ card you gave me in case you were wondering. So no backsies for you.”

“Yeah? And you miraculously know my name now because of that?” she laughs, partly because it really was a sweet gesture if she looks past how insane it sounded, and partly because - well, it was insane. But Nayeon would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the attention. Even if she spent freshmen year avoiding just that.

“I snooped through the attendance list on the teacher’s desk,” Sana nods to the front of the room. “But anyway,” She sticks her hand out, but Nayeon looks at it, completely confused.

“Can we start over now?” she says hopefully, outstretched fingers wiggling eagerly.

Nayeon continues to stare for a moment, wondering if this would actually change anything. She can tell Sana was the adamant type. There was no use fighting it, as much as she wanted to be left alone. How easy it had been to mind her business… not draw any attention to herself…

But she thinks of all the times she would sit on the piano stool and wish someone were next to her. And how much she wishes for someone to come comfort her on her worst days. Maybe Sana wanted to be that. Maybe.

She’d have to trust her. Not that it’d be easy.

“Nice to meet you, Sana,” Nayeon smiles shyly, lightly gripping her hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Nayeon,” Sana beams back.

 

 

Maybe, just maybe, the invisible strings pulling life together meant for them to meet like this.

Or maybe Nayeon was tired of spending lunch alone.

Either way, it was going to be a long three years. But three long years to remember.

 


	2. no reply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which nayeon learns the obvious: sana is cute and everyone loves her.

Nayeon goes in the next day expecting nothing. She is fully convinced Sana’s gesture was empty, and that she would forget everything the next day.

It’s not that she’d be bothered by it. Of course not. She just didn’t expect much from some random popular chick.

At least she _thinks_ that’s what she thinks.

She’ll never know if that was a lie or not, as her thought is interrupted by a loud voice followed by loud footsteps.

“NAYEON!!!!” someone yells behind her. To be fair, Nayeon was still half awake. Whoever’s voice it was wasn’t quite registering in her mind.

“NAYEON???” the person screams again. They’re getting closer. Shutting her eyes, Nayeon braces herself.

“Who-“ she turns around and stands still, trying to figure out who it is.

She opens her eyes last minute to find out that she made a _big_ mistake.

“Oh? Sana, hey. WAIT… HEY WAI-“

She crashes right into her still frame.

How? Nayeon has no clue.

In a blur of body meeting body, she finds herself knocked to the floor, sending all her things onto the cold marble, as well as hurting her now sore butt. Her gaze is directly up at Sana, who looks panicked as she scrambles to pick up their things.

“Ah… sorry, I’m clumsy,” she apologizes, stuffing things into her bag messily.

“If I would’ve known being your friend was going to hurt this much maybe I would have declined,” Nayeon grumbles.

“You already consider me your friend?” Sana smiles, oblivious to the grumpy and sore Nayeon. It may not have been a win for her butt, but it was a win for Sana.

She rolls her eyes playfully, smile coming into view. “More of an acquaintance. I’ll consider you a friend if you help me up.”

“Fair enough,” she giggles, offering her a hand up. It takes a lot of struggle from Sana’s side to get her up, and a lot of pained noises, but she succeeds eventually.

“Hmmm, looks like I’m outdoing you,” Nayeon says as she dusts off her jeans. Sana tilts her head.

“How so?” she asks, handing her the books she dropped.

“I know two things about you now. You’re clumsy and incredibly weak. It’s 2 - 0, Minatozaki.”

“Weak?” Sana nudges her playfully, but as hard as she can. She barely moves.

“Yeah. Weak,” she laughs, nudging her with half the strength yet still sending her a bit of a way across the hall.

“Were you raised by wolves?” Sana yells, desperately trying to regain her balance.

“No… close, though. WWE wrestlers,” they turn down a hall. Sana doesn’t realize she did at first, but she catches up.

“Really?” she asks seriously (and also a little out of breath).

“No, Sana,” she shakes her head, bringing her fist to Sana’s face in a faux punch. She plays along, faking the pain and hunching over. “Had a habit for playful wrestling as a kid. It and the strength I got from it kinda followed me into my teenage years, it looks like,” she blows on her knuckles, pretending to shine them on her sweater.

“Oh…?” Sana smirks. “We should, uh… wrestle… one day,” she winks.

“In your dreams,” Nayeon shoves her again with a laugh.

 

  
_______

 

  
Classes go as normal, of course with the new addition of her new and insistent friend talking to her when she shouldn’t. They get a few glares from teachers, but none of them tell them off. Which is probably because Nayeon was known for being quiet (though she really isn’t… not all the time at least, but that was for Sana to learn, not her teachers). Overall, Sana seems to be a woman of her word.

Nayeon can tell Sana is sincere as she sounded as the day goes on. Walking with her to her locker, walking to class together - whatever it may have been. She’s always by her side… until she isn’t.

It’s when that dreaded lunch period hits that Sana gets caught up in or with someone else. Nayeon doesn’t know which. She doesn’t want to know, she thinks. It’s just like before they met. She sits there alone, staring at things mindlessly, mentally bracing herself for the day homework load ahead. But for the first time it feels - kind of lonely.

 _Getting used to someone being around is normal_ she tells herself.

Then she convinces herself to shrug it off, to get over it, that Sana had friends other than her, that _obviously_ she’s not going to drop everyone else for someone who’s practically a complete stranger.

She laughs to herself because it’s a bit pathetic, but instead of comforting her all it does is make her queasy. There was no point in eating if it was going to come back up, meaning there was no point in being here in the band room at all. So she throws her food in the garbage, almost making it to the door before it slams open.

“I’m here,” Sana pants, dropping her hands to her knees. “I… I… my friends-“

“I figured,” Nayeon says, feeling her heart drop when she catches how sad she sounded. “I mean, I know you have other friends. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s not that. They were telling me about some party tonight but they were taking forever to explain…” she looks Nayeon up and down, noticing she’s empty handed, “oh, are you leaving?”

“Well I thought you weren’t coming, so I thought there was no use in staying here. Which is fine, I just-“

She interrupts her with a hug. It’s an awkward hug because Nayeon wasn’t ready for it at all and her arms just stay to her sides. And it’s also a confusing one because well, _why?_ but it’s a hug nonetheless.

“Why are you-“

“You made me realize you like reassurance. And that you need a lot more attention than you let on. That makes us 4 - 2 now,” she tightens the hug with a laugh.

“You got all that from half of my sentence?” she’s stiff in Sana’s arms, confused and a little embarrassed that she was that easy to read. “And since when was it 4 - 2? I don’t remember there being double points.”

“You’re strong but weren’t raised by werewolves. That’s two whole points there,” she says to remind her of their morning.

“That doesn’t count!” she wrenches her off by her shoulders.

“Why not?” she pouts. Nayeon blinks. One, two, three times. She is so… cute… she admits to herself. It’s hard to keep a straight face, let alone a face not turning red.

“I- um, I…”

“You’re blushing!” she teases, hands coming up to poke at her ribs.

“Am not!” Nayeon frowns, unable to keep it going as she tickles her.

Sana pinches her cheek, puckering her lips and teasing her with fake kisses. “Someone’s red!”

“I’m not! Why would I be blushing anyway!” next thing she knows she’s pinned against the wall, which isn’t helping the whole blushing thing.

“A lot of reasons. But it’s because I’m cute, right? You think I’m cute? Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sana moves her hands above her head. Their faces are a few inches apart, and whereas the look on Sana’s face seems well versed in doing things like this, Nayeon feels herself get hot and nervous and completely forgetting what she was upset about in the first place and how it got to this.

“I’m not so weak now, huh?” she giggles.

Nayeon feels her lower lip quiver when she tries to speak, even more so when Sana squeezes her hands, but thankfully the bell cuts her off.

“Ugh, time for that test in English. Ready for two periods of essays?” Sana’s tone switches up completely, yet she still has them pinned in the same position.

“Y-yes,” Nayeon gulps. “Can you- can we um-“

“Oh yeah, sorry,” she lets her off the wall, linking arms with her instead. “We have two minutes.”

“What?!? I don’t even have my stuff-“

“Let’s GO!”

They race out of the room into a sea of teenagers. All of which Sana pushes by despite the weak description Nayeon had given her. (It’s a surprise to both of them, honestly).

They get there just in time for the second bell to ring. Technically, they were on time.

“We forgot to get my stuff,” she whispers before walking into class. Sana lets go of her arm and swoops around her, ready to run off again.

“Your locker is open, right? I’ll go get your stuff,” she gives her a thumbs up and gets ready to make a mad dash, but Nayeon grabs her arm.

“You’ll be late,” she squeezes, breathing a little heavy.

“I’m used to it. You, not so much. There’s no harm in just one more tardy on my record,” she struggles to get out of her firm grasp, but Nayeon lets go when she realizes she’s right after a few seconds of swooning.

It’s probably for the best, she bargains. She can start this damned test with no distractions and no eyebrow wiggling from Sana. (She learned fairly quickly during the first two classes of the day that that was her specialty).

She sits down in one of the last two available seats in the front row. The teacher was in the middle of directions, thankfully, so she’s there in time for him to pass it out and get started. (She pretends she isn’t discouraged by her not knowing even the first question on it).

Nayeon almost doesn’t notice Sana comes in _fifteen minutes_ late until she slams the door open and waves to the clearly very mad teacher. What was it with her and doors?

She wants to say something, like ask if Sana was okay (she obviously was, but then why did she come so late?), but it was taking every brain cell in her head to remember anything from the twenty minutes of studying she did last night. So she just sighs as Sana slides over her notebooks and continues to work. She’d forgotten to get her jacket, which was kind of the whole point in going to her locker, but she doesn’t complain.

The essay part is lengthy, taking Nayeon the entire second period to complete it with only a mere couple seconds to spare. Sana is still working when the bell rings, and she wants to stay back and wait for her, but she doesn’t want to seem weird or overbearing so she just leaves without a word.

At her locker she’s greeted with a note on the outside of it, one that reads:

 

_in case I can't walk you home :] call me!_

_from, your acquaintance_

 

On the back is her phone number and a whole bunch of little drawings. Nayeon can’t help but smile as she rests her forehead on the cool metal of the locker, shaking her head as she examines every last drawing. It looks like a second grade art project with all its tiny and cute animals with abstract flowers, but it’s cute. Of course it’s cute. She’s realizing quickly that that’s what Sana is. _Cute_. (She’ll deal with the other realization later.)

Nayeon avoids calling her until she gets home, obviously because she was still in class when she got the note and a little bit because she needs time to think of how to start the conversation.

“Hey,” she says out loud to no one in particular. She’s alone in her room, trying to figure out the right greeting.

“Hi?” she tests out. “No, no, no…” she shakes her head.

“Heyyyyy!” she gives it a little twang. “Oh _god_ no,” she laughs to herself, feeling a little heat rise to her face.

“Hello,” she says lifelessly. She shakes her head again, then gives her cheeks the tiniest encouraging slaps.

She settles on texting her a quick “hey” instead and shoving her phone under her pillow. Playing it cool and not texting back right away was her strategy. It was Friday, after all. She couldn’t look like she had nothing to do.

But the afternoon passes. Then the evening, then the night, until she eventually falls asleep but with no text from Sana. She wasn’t checking it that often in the meantime she swears. If every five minutes was not often, that is.

She’ll blame it on her internet. It did take a minute compared to its usual couple seconds to load things today. There was no other explanation.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((forgive me for the short chapters <3))


	3. as she pleases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sana has some news.  
> &  
> nayeon’s never had a good temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been AWHILE for this one (kind of) it’s been a lil difficult to write lately but i’m chugging through it since i love these two

Nayeon wakes up to an incessant buzzing underneath her pillow. She would have been annoyed for more than a minute if it hadn’t been for the little voice of reasoning in her head telling her that it was probably Sana.

 

Well, _hopefully_ it was.

 

Her hand quickly reaches underneath the pillow, tired eyes suddenly flushed with the brightness of her screen. The time was 8:03am (much too early for Nayeon on a weekend) and she had eight missed calls. All from Chaeyoung.

 

She sighs. Not because she was disappointed-

 

Well, maybe a little. But she missed Chaeyoung anyway (they always got so busy), so the feeling subsides for the most part. Her thumb leisurely presses the notification, beginning the call. It rings for barely a second before she picks up.

 

“Hey Nayeon,” her voice has no urgency in it despite the barrage of calls, confusing the hell out of Nayeon.

 

“Hey?” she greets skeptically, sitting up with her back against the headboard.

 

“You know I’d support anything you do in life, right?”

 

“I do now,” she says, still puzzled.

 

“Okay, good. So then you’ll know my next question only comes from a place of concern,” she pauses after that, unknowingly letting the anticipation sink in. Then she sighs, and with it, a ball of anxiety starts to bounce around in Nayeon’s stomach.

 

“What are you and Sana doing?”

 

The question makes her heart drop.

 

“I- what do you mean?” she clears the shakiness from her voice with a cough.

 

“I keep overhearing your name and Sana’s in the same sentence. Considering it’s Sana we’re talking about, I figured it was nothing good,” she sounds indifferent, but the ‘concern’ is clear in her words.

 

“Just friends.”

 

“ _Right_.”

 

“Why are you saying it like that? I mean it.”

 

“It’s… _Sana._  Minatozaki Sana. That’s the girl we’re talking about here, yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The jumble of nerves in the pit of her stomach continues to expand. Nayeon could throw up.

 

“The term _friends_ means nothing to Sana. In case you didn’t know,” Chaeyoung says, sounding like she’s coming from a place of experience.

 

“You have history with her?” she asks, not realizing she was chewing on her nail.

 

“More like _she_ has history with _me_.”

 

She tries to ignore that. “Why do people care, though?”

 

“Nayeon…” she sighs again.

 

“I’ll give you a multiple choice pop quiz: A) It’s Minatozaki Sana, the most popular girl in school. B) Refer to A. C) Refer to B.”

 

“Is there an option D?”

 

“You’re missing the point!” Chaeyoung sort of laughs, but also sort of groans in frustration, and Chaeyoung was never really the type to _genuinely_ do that. So Nayeon mentally steps back and tries to absorb what she’s saying. It takes a while.

 

To be precise, it’s exactly three minutes of silence before a lightbulb goes off in her head.

 

“So…” she starts carefully.

 

Chaeyoung is intently listening. Not that Nayeon could tell or prove that in anyway, for all she knows she could have hung up because of how silent the line was. The last time that happened Nayeon moped around for about a week over nothing because Chaeyoung told her that she _was_ in fact on the line she just wasn’t saying anything. But she knows now, (at the bottom of her heart and in the back of her brain) at least, she was listening.

 

“You’re saying I need to end things? Well-... end our friendship?”

 

“No. I’m just saying you need to be careful. There’s no harm in having friends, Nayeon,” the sentiment warms her heart, but only for a moment because Chaeyoung continues, “Personally, you seem so lonely. I think she’d be good for you to have around. Because _man_ she’s always talking, which reminds me a _lot_ of you, so-“

 

“ _Okay_ , I got it,” she grumbles. Honesty really was her best - most frustrating - quality. “Thanks, Chaeyoung.”

 

“No problem.”

 

Nayeon hangs up first, feeling the queasiness settle in. There’s a whole lot of pain in her stomach that isn’t from hunger, and she sighs. She already knew that Sana was of a different walk of life. Particularly one where everyone is hyper focused on you. She _knew_ that when she said yes to Sana, but it was so spur of the moment and Nayeon felt _so_ …

 

She doesn’t want to admit to Chaeyoung’s words but… _lonely_.

 

That, or it was Sana’s patent irresistibility. Either way, she hopes it’ll make sense one day.

 

But, unlike the geometric proofs homework Nayeon failed to do days ago, it will have to wait.

 

______

  


It isn’t until late afternoon that Sana texts her back. Somewhere in the blur of productivity and Nayeon slamming her pencil down onto the scribbles in her notebook then scrolling through her phone on her “five minute break”. If five minute breaks every five minutes was productive.

  


**sana 3 minutes ago:**

hi

sorry

i was hung up

uh. im not a coat...

hungover**

 

Nayeon giggles at the notification, then wonders why and how she had been drinking, but puts her phone back down. She doesn’t want to look desperate by texting back right away.

 

She goes back to copying down notes from some online geometry textbook. She switched topics. Now it was something to do with the hypotenuse and a right angle. She doesn’t really know or care.

 

Then her phone dings again. It’s another text from Sana.

 

**sana 1 minute ago:**

nayeeeeoooooon

 

Nayeon can _hear_ that text. (It makes her smile).

 

**sana 1 minute ago:**

:(

i know youre always on your phone NAYEON. text meeee

 

Now she rolls her eyes. Sana was right, but it’s not like she’d admit it.

 

**sana now:**

>:(

please i missed u

 

She can’t help but open up the texts at that. Flattery proves to get her everywhere.

 

**nayeon:**

hey

where were you

 

Her heart mimics the three little dots jumping in place for some reason.

 

**sana:**

party

 

Nayeon feels… some emotion. Something kind of like anger but not really. She doesn’t know what to call it or why it’s there. She just stares at the text, welcoming the feeling in before her next text makes it fade away again.

 

**sana:**

thought about you the whole time~

 

**nayeon:**

shut up

 

**sana:**

did you smile when you sent that?

 

**nayeon:**

no

 

**sana:**

…...

 

**nayeon:**

ok i did.

but anyways. apparently people are talking about us

 

**sana:**

yeah i know

 

**nayeon:**

you didnt say anything?

 

**sana:**

it’s a lot to explain

it’d be better to tell you in person

 

**nayeon:**

is that your elaborate scheme for me to come over?

 

**sana:**

sure is

see you in 20 minutes?

 

**nayeon:**

...alright

  


______

  
  


“Don’t close the door too hard. Please.”

 

“Right. Hangover. Got it,” Nayeon shuts the door very slowly, quickly getting slightly annoyed by the creaking. After a couple seconds of tedious closing she just shuts it, hears Sana groan and complain, then sits next to her bed on the floor.

 

“You can sit on my bed,” she says, turning over and squinting at Nayeon. The blinds on the window behind her bed were open, so the morning haze was shining through.

 

“I’m good here,” in reality she was far too nervous to sit on the bed.

 

“You’re clearly not… but I won’t push it,” she says with a gentle smile. It almost hurts to look at.

 

“Right. So, _hotshot_ ,” Nayeon props her leg up, resting her arm on it. “Which number girl am I on your list?” she means it (maybe) entirely jokingly, but Sana frowns.

 

“I’m not… trying to…”

 

Nayeon is surprised at how genuinely sad she sounds. They’ve been teasing each other for three days straight now (Nayeon had been counting), so it didn’t really cross her mind that there were _boundaries._  She guesses it comes with the whole jumping into a friendship headfirst thing.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry I-“

 

“No. You’re right. I’m exactly what everyone says I am, huh? Especially now...” Nayeon wants to question what she means by the last part, but then she laughs a heartbreaking laugh, and Nayeon almost jumps on the bed to console her instead. Almost.

 

“No, no, no… well… uh. Actually, I don’t know. Not yet. In your defense I barely know what people say about you anyway.”

 

That was a lie. She overheard it all. The girlfriends, the drama, the heartache. She didn’t remember much of it, though. She was always far too busy dealing with her own past.

 

Sana smiles sadly. “Fair enough.”

 

Nayeon nods and looks away. The question she wanted answered just kind of hangs there.

 

“Nayeon, really, you can sit on the bed,” the words come out softly, her voice is low and groggy and she’s still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Nayeon can’t help but smile.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t look fine,” she points to her back.

 

“Do I ever?” she shifts a little, trying to play it off.

 

“Yes. All the time.”

 

“You _just_ said I didn’t.”

 

“There’s two types of fine. My last answer was in response to the other type.”

 

Nayeon looks at some poster on her wall now. She would blush otherwise. “That’s so corny. No way.”

 

“I was serious.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Nayeon slowly turns her head to face Sana, both meeting eyes to match each other’s stupid grins and phasing laughs.

 

“Alright, let me stop,” Sana sighs after their fit of giggles, sitting up. “Back to the reason I brought you here.”

 

Nayeon squirms a little, feeling a handle or two dig into her back.

 

“You probably want answers.”

 

Nayeon thinks back to what Chaeyoung said about her, thinking of every insinuation. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say a word.

 

“There’s… a reason… people are talking about _us_ specifically,” she scratches the back of her head. Then her hands don’t know where they want to go, so they reach for her glasses on the dresser that’s pressing into Nayeon’s spine, putting them on slowly.

 

She’s stalling. The fluttering feeling Nayeon had was crashing hard.

 

“I may have told people… well, not intentionally...”

 

“Told people that…?” Nayeon tries to make her glaring not that obvious.

 

“That we… that we’re…” she coughs, looks elsewhere, face red.

 

Nayeon feels her heart expand, threatening to burst past her ribs.

 

Sana bites her lip. “Dating?”

 

“Dating...” Nayeon repeats under her breath.

 

“Yeah, dating.”

 

“Dating?”

 

Sana nods, shifting on her bed a little, looking like a little kid who accidentally got themselves into a heap of trouble. Nayeon is still processing if she could relate to that sentiment.

 

“So, like, together? In a relationship?” she just doesn’t believe this is happening.

 

“Girlfriends.”

 

“People think that?”

 

“All of my friends do,” Sana is struggling to sound like she isn’t scared out of her mind. Not that Nayeon would have noticed anyway.

 

“So you’re saying-”

 

“Nayeon,” she didn’t know when Sana threw her legs over the side of the bed, making her _that_ much closer to her, but now her hand is on her shoulder and she feels like she’s going to fall apart.

 

“I just-...” she feels a bit of anger surge down through her lungs. “Tell them we aren’t!”

 

“About that,” she slides off the bed and in front of Nayeon. “Did I mention _all_ my friends think we’re together? Because… they do… and I don’t think I can tell them otherwise without embarrassing myself,” Sana tries to look her in the eyes, but she she looks down, down to gaze at her hands nervously gliding and tapping her thighs.

 

“Can you look at me?” she pleads, and it sounds so pained, so unlike the bubbly girl she’s been met with the past few days, that Nayeon’s head shoots up.

 

“You can’t throw away your pride just for one second?” she says as carefully as possible. Sana looks more and more hurt as Nayeon’s frustration rises higher and higher.

 

“You know how the Winter Dance is coming up?”

 

Nayeon almost digs her nails into her knees. If _that_ was the reason, she’d be off the walls in anger.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, I need a date and-“

 

“That meaningless dance? You couldn’t ask someone? Or just ask _me_ if you wanted to go with me so bad?” she cuts off.

 

“Hey, I’m not _desperate._ No one else was available. Besides, I was _drunk_ when I said this, remember? I would have asked you,” she sounds embarrassed as she says it, dropping her confident gaze.

 

“You’re saying I was your last resort? Sounds pretty desperate to me,” Nayeon’s lips purse, and the anger subsides to something worse. A hallowing, melancholy ache.

 

“We don’t have to worry about that now. Just… will you go with me? We can end it our uh ‘relationship,’” she does air quotes, “after a couple weeks.”

 

“ _Weeks_?”

 

“Well, yeah. You know how school works. Rumors spread,” she says as if that was something at the front of Nayeon’s brain.

 

“You’re forgetting that I’ve avoided interaction and interaction has avoided me for most of my high school career,” she grumbles.

 

“Right, then this should make you happy. You’ll climb a couple social ladders,” she smiles. Now Nayeon _really_ feels herself starting to fume.

 

“Oh, now you think _I’m_ the desperate one here? I’m not the one trying to convince someone to go out with them for the sake of my reputation,” she squints.

 

“Because you don’t have one. I-”

 

“Excuse me?” she raises her voice.

 

“Why are you offended?!? _You just said you avoid everyone!_ ”

 

Nayeon stops her death squint at Sana. She’s offended for a lot of reasons. None that she would tell Sana. She was too heated and too suddenly self aware now.

 

Looks like their road together wasn’t going to be all sunshine and roses like she thought.

 

“Whatever, Sana,” she sighs. 

 

Despite the fire burning in her chest, she doesn’t want them to fight over this. She was starting to...  _value_ Sana. It would suck to have that gone so quickly.

 

But of course, her ego would never let her live that down if she acted accordingly to that.

 

“So will you do it?” there she is, somehow being bubbly in the face of adversity. She’d have to ask her how she does it when she isn’t this mad.

 

“I’ll think about it,” she gets up, pretending the stiffness from sitting up against the dresser wasn’t hurting her back.

 

“Winter Dance is Friday, you need to tell me by Wednesday-”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” she walks to the door, opening it and slamming it behind her. She hears the pained groans from Sana, which satisfies her _and_ makes her sad at the same time. She chooses not to try and figure it out which of the two it really is.

  


As she steps out the front door, her phone buzzes in her back pocket, and she _knows_ it’s Sana. She wants to ignore it, walk home and ignore her for a day or two, but she looks anyway.

 

**sana 1 min ago:**

i’ll make it worth it

i promise

 

**nayeon:**

then prove it

 

She clicks her phone back off, fully this time as to not get notifications, and walks home.

 

 _Maybe I‘d look good in a blue dress_ , she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SLOWLY but surely getting to that juicy stuff
> 
> (swear these chapters will get longer when i have time i just know if i let this sit it’ll never get updated or finished Ever)
> 
> ((and also you all can talk to me about stuff/ask that behind the scene realness or smth @ my tumblr nasaida cuz if i get too busy... idek at least i’ll live on in your Hearts~~~ on a different platform))


	4. rebirth

Nayeon looks at the time. 11:35am.

 

It’s not a significant time. Nothing significant about it that she remembers, at least. Which would classify it as insignificant, right? So she pretends like she wasn’t counting each minute up until then, each minute that Sana should have been here.

 

If she were coming, she would have been here at least four hours ago. Four times sixty is… well, she can’t do mental math, but-  _ oh _ is it 240? Whatever. It’ll have to do. She wasn’t going to pull out a calculator in English class.

 

Two hundred and forty minutes without Sana. Which isn’t a lot considering her life pre-Sana, and by another round of quick Nayeon math, that came out to billions of minutes. And also the Sunday before today that was also Sana-free. But that was different. She was working out her grudge against Sana because of the whole  _ everyone thinks we’re dating _ incident. A grudge she planned to hold out until today unless Sana convinced her otherwise… but… that plan was starting to crumble as every second without Sana rakes on as if time was slowed down.

 

“...analyzing text-“ Nayeon tunes in to hear the teacher say. Boring. Been there, done that.

 

Which is why she doesn’t feel too bad when she whips out her phone and hides it in her textbook, nose deep in it to cover it up (at least from afar). 

 

No new notifications. 

 

Sure, Nayeon had been the one to leave Sana on read, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t at least tell her if she was alright...

 

She impulsively sends a text. It’s simple and to the point. No indication of the weird pool of emotions Nayeon feels today. Just a simple “are you okay?” Now back to analyzing text. Find the main points. Highlight if she needs to.

 

But her eyes are glancing to her phone more often than not and it’s far too quiet for the clicking of her phone’s home button to go unnoticed. (She gets away with it for now. Her highlighting was believable enough.)

 

...or not.

 

“Enjoying the reading, Ms. Im?” she hears above her. Startled, her head snaps to attention, phone still in hand.

 

“I’ll be taking that,” he says, sliding the device out of her hand.

 

“You can’t-” she grabs for it, but his arm snaps up far above her head.

 

“But I can. School policy,” he points to the list at the front of the room. It looks like it belongs in a kindergarten classroom, but she refrains from saying that to his face.

 

“But this is  _ like _ … important?” she argues, but her tone is unconvincing.

 

“What exactly is more important than breaking down the rhetorical devices in this speech?”

 

Nayeon blanks, blinking rapidly.

 

“Other than everything? I-”

 

“Alright, that’s enough,” he puts his hand up. There’s some giggles littering the room. “If it’s that important, you can use the phone in the main office. If not, then get back to work. You'll get this back when the dismissal bell rings.”

 

Nayeon’s eyes dart to the time, reading 11:45. Only fifteen minutes until the period ends.

 

He notices her eyes drift to the clock. “And I mean last period dismissal, Nayeon,” he adds, walking to the front of the room in a way that told Nayeon their argument had reached finality.

 

She draws her attention back to the worksheet and notebook in front of her. Back to counting the minutes. They were dull ones. There was really only so much text analyzing she could take without Sana cracking a lame joke that only people in the small vicinity could hear. A mentality carries over for the next two periods, too. Copying biology notes isn’t as fun when Sana isn’t the one distracting her from taking them. She gets so bored she even takes the liberty of plugging in _2 x 60 + 15_ her calculator. A simple _minutes missing Sana_ equation.

 

 _Pfft, I could have done that in my head,_ she rolls her eyes. She keeps adding sixties to her heart's content, representing who knows how many hours at this point, hating how she is somehow amused by this.  Then she notices the alphabet lock.

 

_ I HATE THIS CLASS _ , she types out at a sluggish pace. Not expecting anything, she presses enter, scoffing at the  _ ERROR _ that pops up. Then Nayeon finds solace in typing random phrases into the calculator, wondering the whole time if she was always this boring. Her mind reels back to Chaeyoung, how she said she seemed lonely, how Nayeon had internally denied it, but after a quick assessment of the current situation she changes her mind. She was right.  _ Too _ right. If today taught her anything (other than what a rhetorical device was and what a covalent bond is), it was that Nayeon was lonely and clingy and she hated how quickly Sana was becoming a part of her. And not because it was Sana, but because she didn’t want to be  _ that  _ person. The one relying on someone like they’re a lifeline.

 

She half frowns at the revelation, looking down solemnly to her calculator.

 

 _NAYEON +_ was the only thing blinking on the screen. Her thumbs circle around in the air, digging through her limited math knowledge on how to plug in variables, or whatever they were called. Something about equations, too. She recalls a vague memory on graphing with variables, and how each point changes the outcome.

 

Nayeon figures that if she were an equation, it’d be  _ f(lame) = NAYEON + x _ , laughs sadly in her head at the joke, then is hit with an idea.

 

She replaces  _ x _ with  _ SANA _ in her head, then again on her calculator, not even noticing someone hovering next to her desk.

 

“Miss your girlfriend that much?” someone says, and Nayeon’s back hits the chair abruptly, breath quickening and suddenly feeling her face get ten degrees hotter. She looks at whoever startled her for the (2nd time today), surprised when she sees who it is.

 

It’s the girl Sana had taken to Nayeon’s sacred temple of wonder and awe. Her happy place. Her band room.

 

“Since when were you in this class?” is the first thing her brain can manage, happy to ignore and pretend that she didn’t just say  _ girlfriend _ . Sana really must have convinced her friends they were together, but that was a problem for later.

 

She looks up, counting on her fingers. “Hmm…” a pause. The bell is about to ring, Nayeon realized. She’s the only one sitting down. “Since forever?”

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Nayeon says. “Sorry.”

 

She nods, smile thin and wary.

 

“Do you by any chance know where Sana is, uhh…” what was her name?

 

“Momo,” she says.

 

“Right,  _ Momo _ ,” the memory of Sana saying that name washes up to the shores of her mind. “Where is she?”

 

“Sana? Well, she-“

 

The bell sounds off. Nayeon looks to Momo eagerly.

 

“Well, I don’t know actually. Gotta go!” she says with a smile. The smile gives Nayeon a feeling that she _did_ know, but she didn't feel like chasing her down. She was clearly much faster and more athletic. With a sigh she stuffs her things in her bag and leaves, sigh turning into a disappointed heave as she checks her schedule. It was gym. In no way was she in any hurry to get to that class, so she takes her time walking through the crowd of kids, not getting annoyed as she normally would when a wide eyed freshmen blocks the flow of traffic with their inability to find their class. It was still early in the year so she couldn’t blame them, but it still angered her no less.

 

When she gets there,  _ of course  _ coach yells at her for being five minutes late, then again when she’s an extra five minutes late because she takes her time changing, and even more so when she walks as they run laps.

 

“Don’t fail  _ gym _ of all subjects,” Momo encourages as she runs past her, giving a slap to her back. Nayeon really needs to pay attention more. She didn’t notice Momo was in  _ this _ class, either.

 

She was right, though. Summer school for a class as useless as gym would be hell. So she runs, participates to the best of her reluctant ability, right up until that heavenly bell signals that she was home free.

 

Usually she’d change and then leave, but considering how her phone was in a class on the other side of school, she would have to do without that today. Gathering her things, she sighs defeatedly, wishing her legs weren’t as tired as they were. As she walks out of the gym, she sees Momo running out in front of her. Apparently there was someone more in a hurry than her. But even then, her pace isn’t rushed as she walks back to English. She couldn’t if she wanted to. She was tired and sweaty and not in the mood.

 

The school is almost vacant by the time she finally gets her phone, minus the kids on sports teams or in clubs. She pushes through the front doors, sun beaming far too much for winter. She squints ahead of her, seeing something red twirling around in her vision.

 

“Nayeon!” a voice calls out. Could it be…

 

“Sana?” she calls back. The sun was  _ really _ desperate for attention today, but she could make out that voice from miles away. She walks down the steps, grateful for the large tree that begins blocking the light. Someone comes into view as her eyes clear, heart stopping as she gets a good look at who’s in front of her.

 

Sana was smiling, big yellow flower tinted a vibrant shade of red at the center of the petals in her hand. Nayeon feels like her legs have a mind of their own as they bring her closer and closer to Sana, whose smile grows ever so slightly as she gets nearer.

 

“I missed you,” she says quietly, extending a hand with the flower in it.

 

“What’s this for?” Nayeon is scared to take it for some reason. As if it wasn’t for her.

 

“For you,” she says, taking Nayeon’s hand in her warm palm and balling her fist around the flower.

 

She just admires it, spinning it around in her fingers and smiling like Sana had just given her the world. Then her face quickly goes blank again and looks up at the giver of the gift.

 

“Where were you?” Nayeon shoves her with one hand, grinning as Sana lets out a cute “ _ oop _ ” at the action.

 

“At home. Missing you,” she runs a hand through her hair.

 

“Shut up,” she smiles. Nayeon brings the flower to her nose to sniff, mostly to block the  _ damn _ blush that never seems to leave her face. “That’s sweet and all but you ignored my text.”

 

Sana brings the flower away from her nose, hand on her forearm. “It’s fake. And anyway I saw your text, but I had to give you time to miss me, too.”

 

Nayeon rolls her eyes, smile still on her face as they start walking.

 

“Well I did. Are you happy?”

 

“Of course I am! It means you’re not mad at me anymore,” she says brightly.

 

Right. The grudge she failed to hold. “That friend of yours called you my girlfriend today… Momo.”

 

“Is she wrong?” Sana asks carefully.

 

Nayeon thinks about it.

 

“Well, yea.”

 

“Really?” Sana frowns.

 

“You never asked me formally to be apart of whatever…  _ this  _ is,” she says, suddenly hyper focused on the very few leaves of the tree in front of her.

 

“I didn’t think I had to. I thought I just had to prove to you it would be worth it,” she says, extending an arm over Nayeon to stop her. They reached a crosswalk with a newly green traffic light.

 

Nayeon grabs her elbow, startled at how fast the cars zoom by. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask,” she struggles to say. Sana smiles at her.

 

She moves her arm in an attempt to slide Nayeon’s hand down into her own, and almost succeeds before Nayeon whimpers and drops her hand away. Then she clears her throat and tries to harden her gaze, and Sana shakes her head.

 

“You’re cute,” she says, walking ahead when the traffic light turns red.

 

Nayeon smiles behind her, twirling the flower again. Then there’s silence until they reach the sidewalk again.

 

“So, will you be my uh… temporary girlfriend?” she looks back. Nayeon looks at the pistil of the flower instead of her, pretending to think it over. More silence until they get to the next block.

 

“Maybe,” she says casually.

 

“Maybe?”

 

“ _ Maybe _ ,” she starts, “I’d be sold if your gesture was more… grand.”

 

Sana bites her bottom lip. Another block of silence.

 

“That’s a lot to expect, don’t you think?” Sana asks, slowing down to meet Nayeon’s pace.

 

“You said you’d make it worth it,” she reminds her.

 

“But  _ this _ … this is so-“

 

“Think about it this way,” she chimes in, “what if someone asks how we became an item?”

 

“I’d tell them that no one has said  _ became an item _ for years,” she says, and Nayeon punches her shoulder. “Okay, that hit seemed a bit too real,” she groans, rubbing the area.

 

“But it wasn’t,” she says happily, “which is exactly how I want this, um, whole _temporary_ thing to be…”

 

“To feel real but… not be?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Silence.

 

Then finally, “Why?”

 

“I can’t just… pretend to feel that sort of thing...”

 

“That you love me?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Half a block of no answer. Nayeon wants to ask her if  _ she  _ can pretend. Wants to ask if this flower was for more than what she said. But she isn’t quick enough.

 

“...fair.” she says, voice small beside her.

 

Then they’re at Nayeon’s door, both shifting around like two toddlers caught doing something they shouldn’t.

 

“Do you want to come in?” Nayeon taps the doorknob nervously.

 

“Ahh, sure,“ she nods, eyes lighting up.

 

“You can copy the notes you missed or whatever,” she adds, twisting her key in the lock and opening the door.

 

They close the door and climb up the steps, Nayeon suddenly conscious of everything from her messy bed to the smell of her perfume.

 

“Sorry for the mess,” Nayeon laughs.

 

“It’s not a big deal,” Sana giggles, sitting at the edge of the bed as Nayeon takes out her stuff. “It smells good.”

 

“Thanks?” she says, unsure of how she should feel about the compliment. She throws everything they need (plus the flower) onto the bed next to Sana.

 

“Nice sheets by the way,” she says teasingly.  _ Oh no _ .

 

They were her younger sister’s sheets. They had the same size bed but her sheets weren’t washed yet, so she snagged the only ones she could find. She was sure the pattern on it was of some cartoon her sister watched in the mornings, but she didn’t care, she just didn’t want to sleep on the plastic. But now, she regrets it.

 

“These aren’t mine,” she says, voice on the defensive. “My sister’s…”

 

“Oh?” Sana raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to introduce me. We have the same taste in cartoons.”

 

Nayeon stares at Sana, waiting for any cue of that being a joke. The cue never comes, so she just says nothing and joins Sana on the bed.

 

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” Sana questions, laying down.

 

“What? No…” she was. But she was Sana, and it would be more surprising if Sana  _ wasn’t  _ full of surprises.

 

“Then why are you grinning like that!” she laughs, turning to lay on her stomach.

 

“Because you’re cute.” She wishes she was lying.

 

“Stop, that’s my thing.”

 

“What is?” she turns in her position, legs crossed and facing Sana.

 

“The flirting,” she puts her cheek to her elbow, cheek squished but eyes meeting Nayeon’s.

 

Nayeon didn’t think she was flirting, just speaking her mind, but she figured Sana knows way more about that kind of thing than she does.

 

But it doesn’t stop her. “But you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

 

“Am not,” Sana mumbles as she turns her head to put her face entirely in her arms. 

 

“Not what? Cute or flustered? Choose carefully. Both would be a lie.” Nayeon smiles, happy with herself. She doesn't know where the surge of confidence came from, but she's grateful for it.

 

“Shut up,” she groans.

 

“Hey, that’s  _ my _ thing,” Nayeon whines.

 

“What is?”

 

“Telling you to shut up after you flirt with me,” she grins.

 

“Then I guess we’re even,” she sits up. “Now can we get to this homework? I want my grades to be even, too.”

 

Nayeon nods and they get to work. Surprisingly, they get things done. They only stop when Nayeon runs out of loose leaf paper.

 

“Check the drawers on your side,” Nayeon says as she rummages through the small dresser on her side of the bed to no avail.

 

“All these are written on,” she hears her say, and Nayeon feels her stomach drop.

 

“Oh…  _ oh _ . Ignore those. There should be a stack of blank ones in the drawer underneath.”

 

She had forgotten that was her drawer full of letters. She wrote to no one in particular, just loved the intimacy of a letter. It was kind of like a diary but not at all. The only feelings written down and shoved into that drawer were the overwhelming ones, from days that were too much and too little and every extreme in between. But for once Sana doesn’t question her, and for that she’s thankful.

 

“Found it!” she says, taking a small stack out.

 

Then they fall back into the mood of getting things done, and Nayeon feels  _ extra  _ grateful for that.

 

“This problem requires some complicated ass equation,” she mumbles, grabbing for the calculator in between them. “Oh? What’s this?”

 

Nayeon looks up from the problem she’s on, so lost in thought she didn’t hear what she said. “What?”

 

Then she sees the calculator in her hand. “Oh, that?” she laughs nervously, snatching it out of her hands. “Nothing, was just messing with the calculator.”

 

Sana smiles, all too smug. “Nayeon plus Sana?”

 

“I didn’t-... I-“ she doesn’t know how to save herself from this one.

 

She’s so busy clearing it she doesn’t notice Sana lean her face  _ extremely _ close to hers.

 

“What does it equal?” she can  _ hear _ the smile in Sana’s voice.

 

“I don’t know I’m not a calculator,” she forces a laugh.

 

Sana grabs her chin, making her face her. Nayeon drops the calculator, whimpering, tucking her hands under thighs, knowing how shaky they are and not wanting Sana to notice.

 

“It’s pretty simple math, really,” the breath from her speaking dances across her lips, making Nayeon feel the nerves twist and pull at her stomach. 

 

“Should I show you how to solve it?”

 

Nayeon swallows.

 

_ Please higher power, whoever you are, if you’re out there, send me a sign _ , she screams out in her head.

 

Nothing. Just Sana’s unwavering and piercing gaze, and the feeling of her endlessly warming cheeks.

 

Then it happens. The sound of someone coming up her steps.

 

“Uh that might be my mom,” her voice shakes, pulling away from Sana. Sana reflects the same scrambling, sitting back down and grabbing a paper to stare at.

 

Two knocks at the door.

 

“Come in!” she says, voice still feeling the impact of the butterflies slamming against the walls in her stomach.

 

“Hey Nayeon, you have some mail here and-“ she looks up and sees Sana, warm smile spreading across her face.

 

“Hello! You must be one of Nayeon’s friends,” she sounds as if she’s excited. Which surprises Nayeon until she realizes she’s never brought anyone over before.

 

“You could say that,” she laughs, looking over at Nayeon with a knowing smile. Except, Nayeon didn’t know what she was conveying she knew exactly. But she smiles back.

 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Sana,” she puts her hand out, and her mother takes it.

 

“Oh! You’re adorable!” she nearly squeals, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “Between me and you, I was starting to worry she had no one. Nayeon never talks to me about her friends.”

 

“I can hear you,” Nayeon sighs.

 

“Oops! Sorry,” she looks at Nayeon for a moment then back at Sana, then steps back and walks to the door. “You’re welcome here any time! Do you want some snacks-“

 

“Mom!” she groans.

 

“I’m trying to be a good host!” she sticks her tongue out at Nayeon, and Sana starts giggling.

 

“I’ll do it myself!” she throws a pillow at her, purposefully missing.

 

“Okay, okay, if you need me I’ll be in my room,” she says, leaving the door open behind her.

 

“Come on,” Nayeon gets up, dusting off the eraser bits plaguing her pants.

 

Sana does the same, following behind Nayeon as they go to the kitchen.

 

(She doesn’t know how, but Sana sneaks the flower by her and slides it on her ear when Nayeon isn’t looking. A petal or two falls into their snacks, but it was worth it.)

  
  


_______

  
  
  


The next day, Sana is unusually clingy.

 

Maybe it’s because Sana’s friends think they’re together, or because her knowledge on her was still growing and she didn’t know how she _really_ was, but even then it’s more than she would’ve thought.  She spends nearly every minute at her side. Instead of going to her locker, she goes with Nayeon to hers. Water breaks have her added company too, but thankfully not the bathroom ones. Even when her friends invited her somewhere during lunch period, she just clings tighter to Nayeon’s arm.

 

“I’m busy,” she tells them politely.

 

Momo’s there, and Nayeon notices her break into a smile.

 

“Alright, see you later, then,” Momo says, winking at Sana. Nayeon looks at Sana in horror.

 

“We’re not… uh… we aren’t gonna…?” she doesn’t know how to word the question.

 

“No,  _ no _ , no no,  _ no _ , of course not,” she laughs airily. “I wouldn’t try anything like that... not like this...”

 

Nayeon nods, gears in her head beginning to overthink each and every implication of her words.

 

“Anyway, I forgot to tell you. I can't walk you home today,” they start walking down the empty halls.

 

Nayeon frowns. “Why not?” 

 

“I have to watch Momo’s game,” she says proudly. “Best friend duties.”

 

“Does it end before 3? I have photography club,” she much preferred walking with Sana. It felt safer. Like the world had less evil intentions when Sana was around.

 

“Definitely not. It would end at 4:30 at the very least if I’m lucky,” she rests her head on Nayeon’s shoulder.

 

“It’s a home game?” she says, snuggling into the warmth of Sana’s body.

 

“Yeah,” she answers calmly.

 

“Then save me a seat. I’ll come watch.”

 

“Really?” Sana says happily, hugging Nayeon’s arm even tighter than before.

 

“Yes,” she strains, “now loosen your grip before my circulation cuts off.”

 

“Sorry,” she giggles, face inching closer like she was about to kiss her (maybe, who knows, Nayeon could’ve been imagining it). But she stops in her tracks. Neither of them say anything.

  
  
  


_______

  
  
  


The day ends much quicker than yesterday, and before she knows it the two of them are parting ways. Temporarily of course.  _Temporary, temporary, temporary_.

 

“See you later,” Sana says after Nayeon situates her things for photography club, running off to the field outside.

 

The meeting isn't exciting. Just a bunch of blabbing on and on about a future project and what to expect. Typical beginning-ish of the year talk. After photography Nayeon goes to her locker, sending a quick text to her mom telling her she won’t be home late, giving her the guess of _maybe_ by 5:30pm. Then she puts in her combination, expecting nothing but her hung up book bag.

 

But there’s a little origami crane inside, right under where her book bag is.

 

She picks it up, examining it, wondering who the hell broke into her locker to put something so trivial and non threatening in it.

 

The wing nearest to her says “open me! :)” and Nayeon wonders for a second how big is the smallest nuclear device in the world and if it can fit in a folded up piece of paper.

 

But she examines the handwriting, thinking back to yesterday when she and Sana shared answers and notes, and comes to the conclusion that it was Sana’s or an imposter of Sana.

 

She unfolds it eagerly, clumsily, getting more and more restless with every single bit of unfolding. It rips a little here and there, and she curses under her breath each time.

 

Once it’s finally open, she tries to iron out the creases, putting it up against her locker and running the edge of her palm along it. It does nothing. Not that she expected it to, she was just too anxious to read it right away.

 

She flips it over, taking a deep breath and shaking her nerves off before reading it.

 

_ Dear nayeon, _

 

Her heart was already beating out of her chest.

 

_ I was trying to think of how to get a letter in your locker, pushing aside folding it regularly because that would be boring, wouldn’t it? This has to be a grand gesture and all. And I could have just stared really hard at you while you put in your combination, but that sounds like breaking and entering. So I looked up an origami crane tutorial and practiced a couple times. Then I realized it was going to get bent out of shape as I squeezed it through the vents in your locker and scraped the whole practicing thing and started writing. _

 

_ Still, I hope my little paper buddy survives, especially since he’s delivering my message to you and all. _

 

_ Anyway, I don’t know how to make this as grand as you want it. But if it helps, I think you’re really pretty and I love your smile. ~~Your teeth remind me of a bunny, which is cool, because everyone says my cheeks are like a hamsters.~~ _ ~~_ And like their cheeks, I want to store you in my cheeks for the winter! This winter dance specifically. _ ~~

 

_ Ignore what I crossed out. It sounded better in my head but I’m writing this in pen and wasted all my paper on the origami practice. _

 

_ I’m writing this for two reasons: I saw all the letters in your drawer and remembered that one English project you did in 6th grade on them, so I knew you loved them, and because you wanted a more meaningful approach to this from me. _

 

Sana was paying attention to her back then?

 

_ Really, truly, you’re amazing. The past couple days have been a blur with you at the focal point (that’s photography lingo! I learned it for you) and although my dumbass (probably or almost) ruined it, I’m asking for a chance to make it right in our own convoluted way. There’s probably a better solution to all of this but I can’t think of one, and honestly, this one isn’t so bad isn’t it? Two lonely souls converging can’t be so bad. _

 

Lonely. She'd remember that.

 

_ And now I’m running out of space, so let me make this short and sweet. _

 

_ What I’m trying to say is: _

 

_ WILL YOU BE THE GIRL I TAKE TO WINTER DANCE! _

_ (and my girl … friend) _

_ (the girl that’s my friend but also sort of kind of not really my significant other because I screwed up and said you already were to tons of people) _

 

_ love, sana  _

_ ♡ _

 

As an avid letter writer it was atrocious, with its scribbles and markings like a bunch of projectile vomit of character onto the page, but in her heart… well, it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done. And the cutest, too.

 

She could cry if it she didn’t think that were a stupid thing to do.

 

Actually, her eyes were tearing up anyway.

 

She wants to stand here and read it for an eternity, notice every endearing imperfection, but there was no time for that. Sana was only a jog in the cold winter air away, and she had to give her an answer.

  
  
  


_______

  
  
  


Normally, she wouldn’t be this shameless in front of a group of strangers. But she was high off the giddiness, so when she screams into the crowd for Sana, nothing tells her to stop.

 

“Sana!” she shouts. It comes out weak.

 

It was so  _ cold _ . The run here served to already give her the little symptoms of a small cold. She sniffles and clears her throat before shouting again.

 

“Sana!”

 

“Up here!” she hears from high up. Sana was near the back, second to last row. She can see her smiling from here.

 

She tramples the benches (and probably the people, too) in a hurry, ignoring the pesters and hisses from everyone watching the game.

 

“Sana, I read your letter,” she sniffles again, out of breath.

 

“Sit down,” she says softly, putting a hand to her hip. It’s warm unlike the air, and Nayeon holds it in her freezing cold one, making Sana shiver. She sits down, as close as she could possibly be.

 

“Where’s your coat?” she asks, the concern in her voice a dark cloud over her excitement.

 

“I’m fine!” she says, body betraying her with a shiver and runny nose.

 

“Sana, I want to talk about your-“ she brings the arm of her coat to her nose as she speaks, wiping the clear mucus away. “...letter,” she finishes, heart about to soar out of her chest.

 

She smiles, wiping her coat on the side of the bleachers. “You liked it?”

 

“I loved it!” she exclaims as her teeth start to chatter.

 

“ _Gosh_ , here,” she takes the arm closest to Nayeon out of her coat and drapes it over her shoulder. She doesn’t question or complain, just lets her hand fall carefully to her waist, bringing her closer with a soft but firm grip.

 

“Thank you,” Nayeon smiles shyly.

 

“Was my gesture grand enough?”

 

“It was…” she assures her.

 

“So it’s settled?” Sana says hopefully.

 

“Yup. It’s settled. I’m your...” Nayeon lowers her voice, “temporary girl that’s a friend.”

 

Sana giggles. “Right back at you.”

 

There's cheers and standing ovations around them. Did they hear?

 

“Momo must have scored,” Sana says. Oh. She forgot about the game that was happening right in front of them.

 

“Who’s winning?” she asks for no other reason than to let Sana know she was listening. Sports were boring, but being in Sana’s arms wasn’t that bad.

 

“Us!” Sana says.

 

“Cool,” she says, closing her eyes as she rests her head on her shoulder.

 

“I hope we win. We haven’t had a bonfire in awhile.”

 

“What?” her eyes shoot open. A bonfire? With high school kids? Surely someone’s been sacrificed.

 

“Bonfire. We just sit around it, throw stuff in it, drink around it. Whatever the senior players bring,” she says casually, as if that were a normal thing kids do.

 

“I’ve never-“

 

“It’s not bad.”

 

“But like, drinking? On a school night?” Nayeon seriously wonders how the reckless ones survive.

 

“The seniors don’t care. And we just follow the crowd,” her fingers roam the side of her body, and Nayeon’s tingling.

 

“I know uh,  _ girlfriends _ , should support their partner and all but… this? I don’t know…” she stares at the soccer players. Someone falls over. Referee blew the whistle. When the injured player gets benched, Sana cringes before answering. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

She sounds so gentle and sweet that her heart races, warming her body from the inside out.

 

She could get used to this. 

 

“How much time is left?” the board is angled in a way that she can’t see from here, not when they’re so far and high in the back.

 

“Only one more quarter.” 

 

Nayeon nods. Whatever that means.

 

“What are we winning by?”

 

“9-4.”

 

That was a significant lead. Right?

 

“And yes that’s a good gap. Almost impossible to bridge unless you’re  _ really _ good and  _ really _ lucky,” she tells her, amused at how startled she gets when her fingertips accidentally touch her skin.

 

“Are you always this cold?” she laughs.

 

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, because she’s never had enough people touch her to tell her that.

 

Their heads touch when Sana leans against her. It’s cozy and warm, like this coat was a home in and of itself.

 

“Welp, the bonfire should fix that.”

  
  
  


_______

  
  
  
  


As much as she hated the taste of beer, the fire really  _ was  _ keeping her warm.

 

And so was Sana.

 

She’s laying across her lap, hiccuping and burping and mumbling something inaudible.

 

“Are you gonna drink that?” she slurs, pointing to the beer on the grass.

 

“That’s yours.”

 

“Oh,” she grabs it, and Nayeon slides it right back out of her hand.

 

“Hey!” she hiccups.

 

“I think you’ve drank enough,” Nayeon chucks the bottle into the fire, satisfied at the shattering and crackling sounds.

 

Sana turns around in her lap, crossing her arms.

 

“I’m fine,” her bottom lip juts out.

 

“You’re not,” Nayeon sighs. She wasn’t used to this, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

 

Sana’s face relaxes, pretty and delicate features resurfacing.

 

“You’re different, you know,” she says. 

 

And since Sana picked up the beer, that was one of the many things she said that Nayeon couldn't understand.

 

“Different?”

 

“Different from every other girl I’ve been with,” she hiccups again.

 

Nayeon smiles sadly. Drunk Sana got them into this whole fake dating mess, and now she knows why.

 

She brushes hair off her face. “Sit up.”

 

She remembers reading somewhere about how drunk people can choke on their own vomit and die, and Sana wasn't  _that_  drunk, she doesn't think, but... Nayeon didn't want to take any chances.

 

Sana listens, slowly sitting up in her lap. She looks at Nayeon and sways a bit, eyes half lidded.

 

“Mmm,” she whines as she throws her arms around Nayeon’s neck, burying her face in her chest.

 

“What’s wrong?” Nayeon’s hands are so unfamiliar with this, fidgeting until finally settling on rubbing her back.

 

Her lips move against her skin, then some vibrating feeling from her whining, but no audible words come out. Nayeon just continues running her hand up and down her back, wishing she knew what to do.

 

Then Sana lifts her head, meeting her face to face again.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

Nayeon mumbles now, nearly identical to Sana’s nonsensical rambling from earlier.

 

Sana smiles, cheeks so high her eyes almost close.

 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to,” she murmurs, head resting against her thumping heart. 

 

“Are you okay? Your heart is beating really hard!” she rubs her cheek against it, and Nayeon is mumbling again.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” she turns her head to kiss the area, and Nayeon feels faint. The moment was getting more and more difficult to tame.

 

There’s a whistling sound from far away. Maybe it was close. Nayeon doesn’t know. Everything is a blur right now. No focal point. Just the sweat inducing warmth rising from her stomach and up to her head.

 

“Sana!” a voice calls, sounds of wet, grassy steps accompanying it.

 

“Momo?” Sana answers, dazed and confused.

 

“You two seem, uh… comfy,” she smiles. “Jeongyeon brought her truck if you guys want to-“

 

“Oh,  _ please _ !” Sana exclaims. “Can we go, Nayeonie? I want to go lay down.”

 

“I-... sure,” she answers, wishing her voice wouldn’t expose how nervous she feels, or how the little nickname made her head spin. Momo throws her some keys. 

 

“Don’t worry about her, she can handle it. She’s just really loving and clingy when she’s drunk,” she says, ruffling Sana’s hair. She whines in Nayeon’s arms again.

 

Nayeon isn’t entirely sure what to do with these keys, or where this alleged truck was, but she throws Sana’s arm on her shoulder and holds her upright.

 

“That way,” Momo points to a dark place far from the bonfire, nearly pitch black, but Nayeon can sort of make out the outline of the truck.

 

“Thanks,” she smiles, and Momo gives her a thumbs up before turning back to the fire.

 

Sana hums the whole walk there, looking up at the sky and to Nayeon periodically.

 

“You’re pretty,” she says when Nayeon hoists her onto the edge of the truck. She was surprising light. Her dangling legs start to swing leisurely, hitting her a couple times. But she doesn’t complain, just moves to sit next to her.

 

Sana takes her hand the second she settles in. “Dating me isn’t too bad, no?”

 

It’s an odd question, considering it’s only been a few hours. Nayeon shakes her head no, squeezing her hand as she looks up at the sky.

 

“The sky is beautiful,” she whispers, giving each star she sees her undivided attention.

 

“So are you,” Sana hums, turning to pinch her cheek.

 

“Ow. Pain,” Nayeon says. But she just laughs and tugs lightly at her plush cheeks.

 

“You’re like a little plushy,” she giggles.

 

“Okay, okay. Well I’m not. You’re hurting me,” she would be smiling if she didn’t have her cheek captive.

 

“Where does it hurt? I’ll kiss it better,” she draws out the ends of her sentences, still not letting up on her cheek.

 

“Sana,” she groans.

 

“Okay,” she frowns, letting go of her cheek and laying down.

 

Nayeon joins her side, happy for the peace and quiet. She admires the moment, even if her cheek hurts like hell. Everything feels right. The crisp air, the fuzzy sweater Sana let her wear, her equally as warming hand on hers. It all serves to make her heart skip a beat.

 

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?” she can’t help but ask. Even if she already knows the answer.

 

“No,” she rolls over and looks at her. “But it’s the first time it’s felt right.”

 

Nayeon understands completely. But she didn’t feel like getting sentimental now. Not when Sana would probably forget all of this by tomorrow, and not when she probably didn't mean it.

 

“Oh shut up,” she grins. “You probably say that to everyone you’ve brought here.”

 

She looks sad, but her eyes are twinkling in the dim moonlight and it’s such a picture perfect sight it  hurts to look at __ more than her frown . She thinks that maybe, if she was a poet, that this is what all poets dream of seeing. 

 

“I don’t,” she says under her breath. Then something else Nayeon can’t quite make out, then leans down and kisses her.

 

She’s panicking underneath her.

 

She doesn’t know what to do, lips stagnant against hers and breathing not quite there. When Sana pulls away, she looks sadder than before.

 

But all she does is tuck some hair behind her ear and roll onto her back, not questioning or teasing her like she thought she would.

 

“So different,” she says, voice drifting off into sleep. “But I like it.”

 

Nayeon wants to respond, maybe turn over and wrap her arms around her like a  _ girlfriend _ would, but the phone in her pocket ceases that possibility from existence.

 

“Hello?” she answers.

 

“You said you wouldn’t be home late,” her mom says, more curious than concerned.

 

“Ah, yeah,” she looks over to Sana, her eyes shut and chest rising and falling peacefully. Maybe any day before this one she would have had the guts to up and leave, but today has filled her with a feeling she’s never felt before and she just…  _ can’t _ . She can’t leave her here to fend for herself.

 

“I’m gonna crash at Sana’s if that’s okay,” she says.

 

“Oh, you’re with Sana? That girl seems so lovely,” she gushes. “A keeper. You two have fun, just don’t miss school okay? And no fun and games past 9:30 on school nights.”

 

“Okay, mom,” she rolls her eyes. She thought her mom was precious, really.

 

As she hangs up she looks at the time. It was 10:00. 

 

She looks over at Sana again, wondering if her parents were ever worried about her. She was such a free spirit, one bound to get hurt. 

 

Nayeon internally vows to protect her. Even when they go back to being friends.

 

“I’m going to get us a ride home, okay?” she shakes Sana, and she hums and nods.

 

The keys to the truck jingle in her hand as she walks back the bright yellow fire in search of Momo. She finds her looking longingly at the fire from one of the logs, unopened beer dangling between her fingers.

 

“Had fun?” she winks, and Nayeon blushes immediately.

 

“Oh, we uh… we didn’t… do anything,” Nayeon stammers, lips suddenly burning as she remembers the one sided kiss.

 

“You can't fool me, not with your hair that messy,” she laughs. “Do you two need a ride home?

 

“Yeah, you read my mind,” Nayeon scratches the back of her neck, handing the keys over. “I’m staying at Sana’s, though, if that makes it any easier.”

 

“I’ll just drive you to her house and back then,” she gets up, beer abandoned on the log.

 

“Isn’t it your friends car?”

 

“Jeong trusts me,” Momo tells her.

 

“Okay,” Nayeon nods.

 

They walk to the car quietly, keys louder than their footsteps.

 

When they get there, Sana doesn’t move a muscle. She must have really fell asleep.

 

Momo walks to the driver’s side, banging on the side of the truck along the way. “Wake up sleepyhead!”

 

Sana’s eyes shoot open, whining starting the second she hears the engine roar and pierce all her sensitive senses.

 

“Where’s Nayeon?” she looks to her left, and they smile the second their eyes meet. In an excited hurry, she scoots to the edge of the truck bed, reaching out for Nayeon.

 

“Easy,” she coaxes, carefully letting her feet touch the ground. 

 

“I think I dreamed about you,” she says as they load themselves into the compact seats.

 

“Yeah? What did I do in your dream?” she feels as if she’s entertaining an excited toddler, but she doesn’t mind.

 

“I said I loved you and you vanished,” she yawns. Nayeon feels her heart get heavy.

 

“Just a dream,” she says, patting her hand.

 

“Is it? Would you leave me if I loved you?”

 

Momo gives her a look, as if warning her to choose her words carefully. Thankfully, when she starts driving Sana gets distracted.

 

“Can I turn on the radio, Momo?” she says, voice pleading and her smile wide again.

 

“Of course,” she makes a turn that takes them out of the park and onto the street.

 

Sana presses the knob and waits for the booming through the stereo. When it comes she jumps, but she immediately immerses herself in messing with the stations. Nayeon can only sit back and admire her in this moment, her lingering question bothering her the whole ride.

  
  
  


_______

  
  
  


“Have fun,” Momo says as they exit the car, driving off before Nayeon can glare at her for the suggestiveness. How funny it would be, she wonders, if all these horny teens knew they barely even kissed.

 

“Do you have your keys on you?” she asks Sana, who’s a little less inebriated now.

 

“There should be some under the welcome mat,” she walks up the small amount of steps (with a little trouble), then uses her foot to lift up the little rug. “Yup, there it is.”

 

She unlocks the door after some fumbling. Then they’re inside and up the stairs, in the room Nayeon was in only a couple days ago, the mood completely different from what it was back then. As if they were in a different, alternate, parallel world. They might as well have been, considering everything.

 

Sana throws herself on the bed, making some space for Nayeon next to her.

 

“You can change into one of my sweaters if you want,” she says as her eyes flutter shut. 

 

Her eyes roam to the open closet, taking the first sweater she sees off of the hanger. It’s big and light blue and warm. Smells like Sana, if she’s remembering her smell correctly. She’ll have to figure that one out as the next couple weeks unfold.

 

She carefully throws her own damp and cold sweater off, looking back to make sure Sana wasn’t watching, then puts it on. Then she unfolds the bunched up blanket next to Sana and throws it over her, tucking her in gently before laying down beside her.

 

“Sweet dreams,” Sana whispers.

  
  


“Sweet dreams,” she says out of courtesy, because she knows she wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

 

Maybe watching her dream sweetly would be a better term for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D?


	5. &

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interruption // flashback

Sana stares at her team from behind the court lines. Sixth grade dodgeball was really no joke, she thinks, as every ball flies by her classmates in a blur of colors.

 

It was only Nayeon and Chaeyoung left. While Chaeyoung relied on agility, Nayeon clearly relied on luck and her abnormally large hands (for an elementary school kid). Momo and Sana had gotten pelted mere seconds after the whistle was blown, granting them the liberty of taking turns resting on each other’s shoulder the entire game. 

 

_ Front row tickets to see Nayeon live in action _ , Momo teased. Sana immediately punched her in the shoulder.

 

It was Momo’s turn to “rest her eyelids” now, leaving Sana to her own devices as she watches the most competitive kid in the entire school ally with the most laid back kid in school in a meaningless gym game.

 

The rules were simple.

 

  1. Don’t argue on behalf or against the coach’s ruling
  2. Don’t hog the balls (a rule all the prepubescent boys snicker at each time)
  3. DON’T AIM FOR THE HEAD!



 

The last one is especially emphasized. Something about elementary school kids’ brains developing.

 

So when Nayeon is hit square in the face, knocking her glasses off her face to just a few inches away from Sana’s feet, her heart stops.

 

The boys on the other team don’t let up while Nayeon is fumbling on the floor for her glasses in a Velma-esque way. It probably would’ve been funny if it were anyone else, but Sana’s heart is beating and her palms are sweating and she doesn’t think.

 

“Here,” Sana gets on her knees to be face to face with Nayeon, startling Momo awake as her head stool disappears.

 

“Oh, thank you,” she says softly, clumsy hands finding her wrist and trailing along her hands to grab the glasses. “But these don’t feel like mine…”

 

“They’re mine,” Sana says quickly. “Yours are a bit… broken.”

 

“Oh,” her voice is still soft and shy as she tries to grab the glasses. But her hands are trembling a bit, something Sana notices quickly, and she pushes her hands away.

 

“I’ll take care of you,” Sana says, voice shaky and uneven. It sounds too profound for the moment. It’s just some glasses, after all, but it’s the dodgeballs zooming past their heads like it’s a battlefield that sets the mood. To Sana, it was cinematic. To Nayeon, Sana was probably a big blurry blob.

 

Sana hoists Nayeon up like a fallen soldier, wary of the annoying boys and their inability to care that Nayeon broke her glasses and bruised her nose. She takes her to where her and Momo were sitting, Momo now fully awake and smirking as Sana drags her past the sidelines.

 

“Woman down!” Momo yells, running to the court and grabbing the broken glasses and running back to set them next to Nayeon.

 

When Sana gets her seated, the teacher hands her an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel, to which Sana is scared to use.

 

“This might hurt?” she says, unsure but wanting Nayeon to be aware.

 

“What? What is it?” she instinctively grabs for what Sana is holding, but it lands on her empty hand instead. Sana’s face heats up, making the ice pack tempting for her own use instead of on Nayeon.

 

“Just an ice pack,” she tries to keep her tone even, but she’s clearly still nervous. And it’s not helping that Momo is staring at her behind Nayeon like they were a good movie to watch.

 

“Oh, okay. Thank you,” her voice goes gentle again, and her eyes flutter shut.

 

“You’re pretty,” Sana blurts out.

 

“What?”

 

She clears her throat. “Get ready,” she amends, carefully applying pressure to the ice pack as she puts it on the bridge of her nose.

 

Nayeon whimpers, making Sana jump (and Momo laugh).

 

“Sorry,” they say to each other in unison.

 

Nayeon slips her hand under Sana’s and takes the ice pack, cueing Sana to finally put the glasses on her.

 

“Take mine,” she smiles, placing the glasses on her face delicately. The ice pack places them higher on her nose, but her eyes are still in frame, so Sana assumes it’s good.

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” she says with a small smile. “We don’t have the same prescription.”

 

“Probably,” Sana nods, pretending as if she pays attention in the eye doctor’s other than when her hand is in the candy bowl. 

 

“Oh, never mind,” she laughs as she takes the ice pack off her face. She pushes them up when they immediately slide farther down her nose, and something about how she does it makes Sana want to clench her chest, or maybe even cry, but she just smiles painfully.

 

“I can see pretty well through these. What’s your vision?” she applies the pack again, clearly giving up on the game as everyone gets back on the court.

 

“I can't see the future,” Sana says under her breath. More of a joke than anything, but Nayeon hears her.

 

“No, like your vision score.”

 

“Right. Twenty-five?”

 

Nayeon blinks. “20/5? Sounds bad.”

 

Sana mentally wipes the sweat off her brow. She got away with her lack of opthamologist knowledge.

 

“Doctor visits suck don’t they?” Sana says in an attempt to continue the conversation.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How many cavities do you have? I have-“

 

“Let me take her off your hands,” she’s yanked by Momo off the bleachers and into the game. She leads them far away from Nayeon, far enough so she can’t see Momo flick her ear.

 

“ _ What  _ did you think you were doing?”

 

“Making small talk,” Sana rubs her ear, bumping her shoulder into Momo hard enough to knock her back a little.

 

“ _ Cavities _ ?” she nudges back. She’s trying to scold her but there’s a smile on her face, one that Sana follows up with her own.

 

“Listen-“

 

“Heads up!” someone shouts in front of them. They both duck.

 

They bump heads on the way down. They both fall into sitting position after the big  _ clunk. _

 

“Really, Momo?!?”

 

“Really, Sana???”

 

They’re glaring at each other as they rub the throbbing area.

 

The glares last two seconds before they start laughing at  _ absolutely nothing _ (which is the funniest thing known to man for Sana).

 

“I think I lost some brain cells,” Sana says.

 

“Yeah, so did Nayeon when you asked her about her dental records.”

 

“Go to hell,” Sana whines.

 

“Only if you’re there with me,” she says casually. Sana stares at her, another smile slowly expanding across her face. Then Momo gets up and bows, all while waving to an imaginary audience.

 

“And that, ladies, is how you flirt.”

 

Sana rolls her eyes before pushing her into the oncoming ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suuuup it’s been awhile

**Author's Note:**

> side note from the obvious: SOMEONE talk to me all about soft and domestic sanayeon... it’s the best thing ever.


End file.
